echoes of you
by will herondales
Summary: "You saved me from myself, but now that you're gone, i'm broken again." Letters to the deceased Cameron Fisher from Dylan Marvil — DylanCam.


**a/n: **i'm not quite sure if this is paced correctly. feedback is very much appreciated. this is set during tenth grade and the beginning of eleventh grade. and yes, all the fandom references were necessary. forlily (euphorias) in the gift-giving extravaganza 2014.

**warnings: **death and depression.

* * *

_October 11th_

Dear Cam,

I know that you will never receive this letter. You will never do anything ever again. You will never see the sun rise, the ocean waves lapping at the shore, or the flowers blossoming in springtime. You're _dead._

It's only been four hours since I found out about your death, and I'm still crying. I didn't even think it was humanly possible to cry this much. I can't even see through my tears right now. I'm getting ink stains all over the paper. But I have to write this. It's the least I can do for you and for us as a couple.

It all started four hours ago. Today was just another normal Friday in my life. I didn't think it would be any special, or that something like this would happen to make everything crash down. School whizzed by in a flash. As it was a Friday, I couldn't wait to finally get out of the school and enjoy the stat of my weekend. There were the usual rumors and gossip about who was dating who and all sorts of stuff I could honestly care less about. God, how could people stand to gossip about superficial things when the world just lost an amazing human being? So, anyway, when I got home, I collapsed on the couch and started watching Teen Wolf. I didn't text you because I knew you had soccer practice.

Yeah, nothing out of the normal so far. It was a pretty boring day. But then I got a call from my mom. "DYLAN!" she had screamed. I knew the situation must have been pretty serious since she didn't call me "Dylly pie". She told me that something had happened at the street that Slice of Heaven was on and that I should come quick.

I hung up the phone and told my driver to drive me to Slice of Heaven. By the time I got there, there was already a huge crowd gathered around someone or something (I didn't know that that "someone" was you at the time). My mom spotted me right away and waved me over. Her face was stricken with panic. I started to really worry then. My mom _never _panics. She's a trained professional. She doesn't really let it show when she's stressful or anything. I walked over to her and she immediately pulled me into a big hug. After about three seconds, I pulled away and demanded to know what was going on. My mom looked away, almost as if she was scared to tell me.

I told her that I would go find out myself and pushed my way to the front of the crowd. And what I saw there changed my life forever.

Yeah, it was your pale body. And a bunch of ambulances. And police cars. But none of that mattered in that very moment because I had just learned that _you were dead you are dead you're dead and you're not coming back you're never coming back – _What happened next is all a blur to me, but I think I started screaming and crying and wouldn't stop. Mom told me that the police had to pull me away. They told me that they were sorry for my loss and ushered me away, because apparently I was disrupting everyone. I think I kicked one of the in the balls, but I'm not sure. The next thing I knew, I was lying in my own bed.

My mom told me that you were crossing the street when a car came out of nowhere and hit you. She assured me that you died on impact, so you didn't have to experience any pain. She said that it wasn't your fault; you had looked around beforehand and the street seemed safe, so you decided to cross. She also said that you're in a better place now.

(I still think that the best place you could be is with me.)

I'll never be able to get the image of your pale and lifeless body out of my head. There was blood on the side of your face, and your bones looked oddly disjointed and out of place. I'm pretty sure my blood turned cold and maybe my heart even stopped beating, but again, I don't really remember what happened this afternoon. I just – you were alive and healthy one second, then BAM, the car comes, and you're dead. I wish it wasn't like this. I wish I could turn back time and change everything.

I'm sitting at my desk right now. My red hair is even messier than usual and I'm still crying. I can hear Ryan and Jaime laughing downstairs. How can they be so happy when this has happened? How can their lives just go on like this when you're gone? How can life in general just go on like this? How can the cycles of nature just continue like nothing happened? How are people not affected by this? Even my own mom is continuing with her daily routines like nothing happened. It seems like I'm the only one who cares (I'm not sure about your friends, though). But hasn't it always been like this?

I feel so horrible. I can't help but feel that this is my fault, in some way. If I had only been there. I could've seen the car. I hate myself so much for this. I'm sorry, Cam. I'm so sorry you had to die. I'm so sorry for not being the best girlfriend. I was sometimes clingy and needy and I can't believe you even put up with my constant complaining.

I think I'm going to have to end this letter here. My mom just came in and told me that I've had a traumatic afternoon and that I should sleep now. I don't want to stop writing this, but my handwriting is starting to become sloppy and I'm getting ink stains all over myself.

xoxo

Dylan

* * *

_October 12th_

Dear Cam,

It's been twenty-four hours since you've died. Derrick and the rest of your friends came over today. It was very sad and I think we all cried a little, even Massie, who rarely cries in front of people. We all said a few words about you. I don't know who cried the hardest. It was the first time we all (the girls and the boys) cried together.

Here's what I said about you: "Cam Fisher was the most perfect human being ever. Actually, no. Nobody's perfect, but Cam came really close. He was _practically _perfect. Sure, he messed up a lot and sometimes said or did the wrong thing, but he's done plenty of good things to overshadow the bad. For example, when he makes a mistake, he realizes it immediately and always apologizes. He cares about everyone and would go out of his way to help someone in need. He doesn't mean to hurt anyone. I think we could really all learn from him. He rescued me from hell, and I just – I love him." No one bothered to correct me and tell me that it should be "love", not "loved".

I would've said more, but I was crying too hard by then.

Plovert put his arm around me. I let him, because I really need someone to comfort me. We all had group hugged, then everyone went home.

They're great friends, honestly, but they could never replace you.

You saved me from myself, but now that you're gone, I'm broken again.

* * *

_October 19th_

Dear Cam,

Why did you have to die?

xoxo

Dylan

* * *

_October 23rd_

Dear Cam,

Mom found me a therapist to help me cope with your death. Her name is . . . never mind, I don't know her name. She has super blonde hair and cakes _so _much makeup on her face. I think my mom wanted me to have a laugh or something, but it's not really working. I haven't laughed since before you died.

She asked me a bunch of questions about how I was feeling and I honestly just wanted to rip her throat out the entire time. The conversation went a little something like this. She asked me things like was I eating or not. Puh-lease, of course I'm eating. My anorexic days are over. But now I'm stuffing my face with a lot of desserts again. I know this isn't healthy and I should try to cut back, but I can't stop. I'm turning into one of those girls who eat their problems.

Anyway, I told her that I was coping fine, but she could see right through me. I finally gave in and told her that I was binging on brownies and cake, and that I was becoming more and more anti-social. Not that I was even that social in the first place. I told her that I've always been a big of an outcast in my group of friends. I've always been the fat one, the one who doesn't belong. And now I feel like even more of an outcast. I don't even know anymore.

I've thought about suicide, you know. So I could be with you again. I don't even know if life is worth living anymore. I could just end my life so easily.

Of course I had to tell her this. She asked everyone the suicide question. She told me to make a list of why life is beautiful. I told her I couldn't. She said to think about it and come up with it later.

I miss you so much.

xoxo

Dylan

* * *

_November 15th_

Dear Cam,

Everyone's moved on by this point. Do you think I can? Because _I _don't think I can. Massie told me that I should just forget and find a new guy or something. But this is about more than just boys.

I yelled at her, and we are no longer friends. I'm no longer friends with Alicia, Kristen, and Claire either. I thought Claire had forgiven me for going out with you, but apparently not. She now hates you, just so you know. Whatever. I don't need friends. Chocolate will be my friend. They don't understand, but I guess I'm not making it easy for them. I knew we would split apart, anyway. It just wasn't working. I didn't feel as happy around them. The things we did no longer felt _fun. _They cared about superficial things like makeup and shopping. They're all just so fake and plastic.

Life would be much better if you weren't dead. Or if I were dead. I just want to be with you. That's all I want, ever. You're the only person who made me truly happy. I think I've realized this a little too late. My old friends, the Pretty Committee—what I felt around them was just fake happiness. I never really enjoyed gossiping and shopping. What I really enjoyed was what we did together. I enjoyed going on picnics, stargazing, riding our bikes around the neighborhood, talking at the park, and just everything that we did. I remember how sometimes, I would jump into your arms and you would spin me around. You made me feel like the queen of everything.

I see you everywhere, Cam. I see you in Derrick, Josh, and all your soccer friends. I see you on the soccer field. I see you at Slice of Heaven. (Yeah, I've been avoiding that place ever since The Day You Died.) I see you in all the male characters in the TV shows that I binge watch nowadays. I see you in the chocolate cake that I like to eat.

You're everywhere. It's a constant reminder that you're actually not alive; it's just a hallucination.

xoxo

Dylan

* * *

_November 20th_

Dear Cam,

Well, now I see you in my dreams. I keep having this recurring dream of you. In the dream, I'm standing in the doorway at Slice of Heaven. I can see you about to come out of the restaurant. I scream your name, but you don't answer. You walk straight through me, like I'm transparent. You can't see me. No one can see me, because I'm a ghost in the dream. I see the car coming, and I barely have time to cry out your name before your body hits the front of the car and you're thrown across the road. Then I scream, and rush to your side, but it's too late. You were killed on impact, remember? The goddamn car just speeds away like nothing happened. I run after it, cursing, but the driver can't hear me.

Then I start hearing whispers of your name. At first it sounds like one person, but then more and more people join in and the whispers get louder and louder. _Cam. Cameron. Cameron Fisher. _I scream and fall to the ground. I'm trying to rip my hair out. _Cameron Fisher. Cameron Fisher. _I try to run away from Slice of Heaven, but the voices follow me. _Cameron Fisher. Cameron Fisher. _The whispers keep getting louder until they're piercing shrieks. I wake up screaming. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears and I'm gasping for breath.

The dream just reminds me of how I couldn't save you. I can't turn back the hands of time and try to reverse it.

I hate you so much for dying. I hate myself so much for letting you die. But at the same time, I love you.

xoxo

Dylan

* * *

_November 24th_

Dear Cam,

The dream keeps happening. My therapist told me to think about happy things, but I can't think of anything. She said that watching Netflix was fine, too, as long as it wasn't a scary, bloody show. I'm now going to have a major Gossip Girl marathon. I'm not sure if it's going to work yet.

xoxo

Dylan

* * *

_November 25th_

Dear Cam,

Guess what? You know show up as Chuck Bass in my dream.

xoxo

Dylan

* * *

_December 4th_

Dear Cam,

My therapist told me to listen to a lot of music to take my mind of things. It's working! I haven't had the dream in three days. I can't seem to remember my dreams these days, and when I can remember them, they're of the good times we had together.

I really hope I never, ever have that dream again.

xoxo

Dylan

* * *

_December 14th_

Dear Cam,

Everyone's making Christmas wish lists and going Christmas shopping. I just want to scream at them.

All I want for Christmas is for you to not be dead. Can't you be like the Doctor and just cheat death by regenerating? But I know that this isn't a British sci-fi TV show. This is reality, and I hate it.

Well, I know I'm not getting anything for Christmas this year.

xoxo

Dylan

* * *

_December 25th_

Dear Cam,

Merry Christmas. Well, it's not merry, but it's Christmas. I didn't get any presents today, as I expected. I wish I could receive jars of happiness. I just wish I could be happy again.

I don't even need any presents to be happy. I just need _you. _I have so many things I could buy with my family's money. I live in a mansion. I could have anything I want, but the only thing I truly want, I can't get. I may sound selfish, but it's true. I don't care about money. I could have all the money in the world and be unhappy. Happiness isn't measured in dollars, or even friends.

The one thing that makes me happy is dead.

xoxo

Dylan

* * *

_January 18th_

Dear Cam,

It's been snowing for a few hours now. The weatherman says that we're going to get at least a foot. This makes me happy because it means no school.

Do you know what this snow makes me think of? You. At this point, I don't know what doesn't make me think of you. Anyway, the snow makes me think of the time we went sledding together on the hill in your neighborhood.

It was a January day of our ninth grade year (which was last year). It had snowed about a foot. The snow was perfect for sledding. You had texted me, asking if I wanted to go sledding with you. I said yes. You told me to meet me at your house, and to not bring a sled, since you would be supplying one for me. I said goodbye to my mom, put on my winter coat, hat, gloves, and boots, ran out the door, and asked my driver to take me to your house.

You met me there with a big sled that could hold two people in your hand and a huge grin on your face. "Ready to go sledding?" you had asked. I had responded with, "You bet I am." We power walked to the hill, our fingers intertwined. When we arrived there, I gasped. The hill was steeper than I had imagined.

You assured me that it was safe to sled down. I trusted you, so we got on the sled together. You sat in front, with me holding on to your waist. You pushed the snow-covered ground with your feet to get us started, and we went cruising downhill. It was a wild ride. My hair was blowing in my face and the wind was really chilly, but it was a thrilling experience. I felt like we were infinite as we sledded down that hill. The wind was pushing us along. I didn't have a care in the world. When we got to the bottom of the hill, we both fell off the sled and plunged headfirst into the grass. Once we dug ourselves out, we had a good laugh over that.

We trudged back up the hill and did it again. And again. And again. It was one of the happiest days of my life. By the end of the day, my cheeks were flushed red from the cold (and maybe not just the cold) and my hands and feet were numb. You kissed me at the top of the hill. The day was perfect. It was just the two of us sledding on a winter day, without a care in the world.

It's too bad this year I don't have anyone to sled with. I guess I'm just going to stay home and watch the snow.

xoxo

Dylan

* * *

_February 14th_

Dear Cam,

It's Valentine's Day. I'm sitting at home and having a Vampire Diaries marathon. I don't want to go to the school dance. Even if I did want to go, no one would go with me. If I went, I would've been the loner standing in the corner.

I don't even talk to anyone anymore. I've drifted apart from everyone. I know I shouldn't distance myself and shut everyone out, but no one understands. No one except for my therapist, whose name I still haven't bothered to learn (it's irrelevant), understands.

I'm replaying our relationship in my head right now. Do you remember the day you asked me out? Never mind, don't answer that. You can't. I'm going to recount it.

It was May 9th of our eighth grade year. It was a lovely spring day. Massie took us over to Briarwood because she wanted to surprise Derrick. Claire wouldn't go, because you had just broken up with her two weeks earlier. (Uh, the break up was a touchy subject that none of us liked to talk about. We don't even like to talk about it now. I assume you don't want to hear about it either.) She was still hurting, and wondering who this "mystery girl" that you said you liked was.

When we arrived at Briarwood, you guys were just coming out of the school. We spotted Derrick immediately. He was talking to the "soccer gang". Massie was trying to hide her blush, but we could still see it. When you guys approached the bush where we were hiding, she jumped out and hugged him from behind. "Derrick!" she had squealed. "Surprise!"

Derrick looked a little frazzled, but his face brightened, and he said, "Hey, Block." You and I shared a smile. Massie and Derrick then left to go to the mall or somewhere. Alicia said she had dance. Kristen complained that this entire trip was a waste of time ("We came all the way over here for this?") and went home to do homework. Josh, Chris, and Kemp all had things to do, too, so the only two people left were you and me.

"Don't you think Massie and Derrick are so cute together?" you had said.

"Um, yeah," I had responded. I really did think Massie and Derrick were cute together. Sometimes, they were so cute it made me mad. I wished I could have a boyfriend like that. I wish someone could love me like that.

I was probably thinking out loud, because you responded with, "Someone does." And suddenly my world was spinning as you leaned in and kissed me. It was pretty good, as far as first kisses go. When the kiss was over, I was blushing so hard and I think you were too. "So you know that mystery girl I liked?" you asked. I nodded. "Yeah, it's you."

I started to smile, but then remembered that you had broken Claire's heart. "You really hurt Claire, you know. And plus, why would you like someone like me when you can like Alicia, or even Kristen?"

"I feel really bad for hurting her, but the relationship just wasn't working. Look, Dylan. You usually go unnoticed by most of the boys, but I think you deserve to be noticed. You're funny. You're insecure. You're real. You like food, and you're one of the only girls who doesn't act like a girl all the time. You're not afraid to be yourself. Claire used to be like you, minus the not acting like a girl part, but Massie's changed her so much lately. You stay true to yourself. Need I say more?"

Once you said that, I stood on my tiptoes and planted a soft kiss on your lips. I couldn't resist. Your words were so nice. It didn't matter that I would hurt Claire because your words were so nice.

That memory makes me smile. After that day, we started texting and FaceTiming daily. You helped me up whenever Massie put me down. When I stopped eating, you came over every day and tried to convince me to eat. It was pretty effective, since you got me to eat more than just one apple per day. You told me that I was beautiful, no matter what. It didn't matter if I was a size zero or a size six. You loved me anyway.

I miss your positive, encouraging comments. You were the best boyfriend anyone could ever ask for.

xoxo

Dylan

* * *

_March 9th_

Dear Cam,

I want to keep writing to you, but I don't know what to say. Nothing exciting has been happening in my life.

My mom signed me up for art class today. She insisted that I needed to have at least one extracurricular that didn't involve watching TV and eating. The first class is in exactly two weeks. I'll write to you then.

xoxo

Dylan

* * *

_March 23rd_

Dear Cam,

Today was my first day of art class. Guess what? It turns out I actually have a talent for art. We painted still-life portraits of fruit. It was like what you typically do in art class. I liked it, though, and really got into it. Everyone loved my painting.

I didn't talk to anyone during class except for the teacher. My therapist said that not talking to people was fine, as long as I did something other than watch TV and eat.

It's funny, because I've never really tried doing art before. When we did art projects in class, I would never try my best on them. Massie always said that "art was for losers" and told us to bullshit our way through art projects. On those kind of projects, I always did a good enough job so that I would get a good grade. But now that I'm actually trying, my hidden talent really starts showing. It's really amazing.

* * *

_May 9th_

Dear Cam,

Today would've been our two-year anniversary. I'm going to celebrate anyway, even if you're not here. So happy anniversary! You were responsible for one wonderful year and five wonderful months of my life. Thank you so much. The day you asked me out was, is, and always will be the best part of my life. You will always be the best part of my life.

Life has been pretty good. I've been spending my free time painting and drawing everything I see and whatever pops in my head. I carry a sketchbook everywhere. It's officially become part of my life, like you became part of mine exactly two years ago.

I'm standing outside Briarwood right now, in the exact spot where we kissed. I'm trying to draw that moment, but it's hard because I'm just relying on my imagination. I can't really recreate it, since you're not here. But I'm trying my best, and I think I'm quite satisfied with the result. I'm sorry you can't see it. It's basically a pencil sketch of us.

I think I've finally found something that can make me happy. I think I've finally found a _hobby._

I think I'm officially on the road to recovery.

* * *

_May 30th_

Dear Cam,

School's officially out. I'm officially a junior now. It's really scary to think about. I'm graduating high school in two years. I don't think I'm ready for the future. Or, rather, I'm not ready for a future without you.

I wish I could go back in time and relive our best moments over and over. But sadly, the world is not a wish-granting factory. I don't own a time machine disguised as a blue police box. I'm just another girl with a broken, unfixable heart.

My mom has a lot planned for us this summer. She says we really need to get out of the house and get some fresh air. I think we're going on a cruise in a few weeks, and then we're going to the beach or something. And we might go to Europe and visit Paris, but what's the point of going to the city of love when the one you love can't even be with you?

This ruins all my plans for the perfect summer: eat, sleep, and watch TV.

xoxo

Dylan

* * *

_August 15th_

Dear Cam,

I'm so sorry I haven't written in a while. We went on all those vacations I mentioned. I didn't have much free time for the past two and a half months. My mom also insisted on having more "family time". She wouldn't let me write to you. She wouldn't even let me touch a pen or pencil. She said that school was over and that I should just learn to have fun. It's totally bizarre since most parents would want their kids to keep up with their studies over the summer, right? Well, not my mom.

Anyway, I've really been able to relax this summer. I drew and painted a lot of things. Hey, my mom didn't say I couldn't use colored pencils or paintbrushes! I painted all sorts of pretty scenes. I woke up every morning to watch the sunset. Everything I painted was beautiful, and reminded me of you, because you always told me that I was beautiful, and that life was beautiful, too.

You wouldn't have wanted me to be depressed all the time. You would've wanted me to appreciate the beauty of life. You would've been proud of me. I just know it.

I'm probably going to be writing less and less. My therapist said that writing to you less and less is healthy. Yay? 'll be spending more time outside with nature. I'll be drawing and painting more.

I love you, Cam. You know what else I love? Life. It's so precious and beautiful, really. You only live once, so make it count. I think you did a great job living your life. It was short but sweet. You did so much in your life. I love you so much.

xoxo

Dylan

* * *

_September 6th_

Dear Cam,

Well, today was the first day of school. I still don't have any friends, but I'm fine with that. I don't need friends to be happy. I really don't.

Remember when I told you about my first visit to my therapist? Well, I finally have my list of reasons why life is beautiful. Here it is:

Life is beautiful because . . .

-of nature (flowers, sunsets, etc.)

-of art

-of sledding & snow

-of food & TV

-of animals

-of beautiful landmarks around the world

-of watching athletes' glorious moments of victory at the Olympics

-you can travel to those beautiful landmarks and explore the world

-there is always someone who cares (even if they're currently in heaven)

-and a lot, lot more!

There are so many reasons to smile. I'm finally realizing that. It's what you've been telling me all along. Life really _is _beautiful. I shouldn't just take my own life. I'm sorry I ever even considered it, Cam.

It doesn't change the fact that I miss you, though. You're still not here.

xoxo

Dylan

* * *

_October 11th_

Dear Cam,

It's been a year. You've been dead for a year.

I miss you, Cam. We all miss you, but me most of all.

But I guess I can't dwell on this forever. This is the last letter I'll ever write. My therapist told me that I need to learn to let go of the letters, too, and accept the fact that you're never going to write back, or even see the letters. And I am going to do just that. I've stored all the previous letters in one of my mom's old jewelry boxes. I'm keeping the box on my desk. I'll see it every day as I do my homework. I'm going to place pictures of you and the two of us together around it. I don't want to ever forget you.

I can't imagine living in a world without you, but I'm going to have to do it. Live in a world without you, I mean. My life needs to go on. I need to get into college, get a job, have a family, and just live my life like I was meant to, with or without you. It hurts so much, but I need to do this. Just remember that I will never stop loving you. Even on my wedding day, I'll be thinking of you, the boy with the different-colored eyes. The boy who changed my life. (The boy who is no longer alive.)

My heart is still broken, even though I've realized how beautiful life really is, but I need to stay strong even when I can't. I need to keep on moving and believing that things _will _get better. I don't think my heart will ever fully heal, but that won't stop me from living my life to the fullest. I'll be thinking of you every second of every day.

You went your own way, and I went mine. But I still hope that our paths are intertwined. That maybe, up in heaven somewhere, you're looking down at me and smiling.

I love you, Cam. Note how I didn't use the past tense. I don't care if you're dead, because in my heart, you're still alive. At least, the memory of you and your spirit are alive. Our love will never die. Our love is eternal. I love you to the moon and back. I will always love you.

I am going to live my life for you. I'm going to live a _good _life. I'm going to have fun and be happy. I'll live the life I wanted to have with you. You would've wanted this. All you ever wanted was for me to be happy, for me to smile. I don't think you would've wanted me to die for you. You would've wanted me to live and be bubbly, energetic Dylan Marvil. You would've wanted me to be the funny girl with the flaming red hair. I'll forever be _your _funny girl with the flaming red hair.

Thank you, Cam, for everything you've ever done. You've changed my life so much, and for the better. I can't thank you enough. You made me realize that I was beautiful and that size didn't matter. You made me want to eat again when even my friends couldn't do that. I am forever indebted to you. You are my hero. You are a true angel.

I'm crying as I write this. This paper is stained with ink. My own teardrops that fall and land on my desk are stained with ink as well. This is just like last year, huh?

I'm going to Slice of Heaven with the Pretty Committee and your old friends in a few minutes. I haven't been to that restaurant in a year. But I think it's time for me to face my fear. I'm going to order a pineapple sausage pizza, just like what we used to order back then. And you know what? I think it'll be the best pizza ever.

Goodbye, Cameron Fisher.

Forever yours,

Dylan Marvil.


End file.
